Let Me Rest In Peace
by Josephine de Chagny
Summary: If Erik can't have Christine, he just wants peace. Or chaos.
1. Let Me Rest In Peace

When Erik heard Christine and Raoul declaring their love for one another on the roof of the opera house, he could feel his poor, hope-filled heart crack and break. He wept as he listened to their slow retreat inside, blinded by his sadness. He'd had such hopes… He had been so certain he could win her over. If only she'd given him more time! If only she hadn't been so damned curious, she wouldn't have unmasked him… She wouldn't know the monster that had been giving her singing lessons.

Even through the thick cloak of sorrow that plagued him, he felt something even darker shuddering awake within him. _Yes_, he thought, _run along, enjoy your time together for it will be short-lived!_

Down he raced, down, down, down into the opera house. As he made his way through the catwalks and crawlspaces, he could hear Christine's muffled voice as she sang as the Countess. A nearly inaudible whimper escaped Erik's throat as he paused and listened. Hers was the voice of an angel.

He paused for a moment, just before coming out into full view of anyone who happened to be looking his way- a grand total of no one as all eyes were on the lovely little soprano on stage- and stared at her as she moved with grace and beauty, serenading the audience with her pure and sweet airs. _Do you not see her lies? Innocent and pure- hah! If only the audience could've seen the brazen way she behaved on the rooftop!_

The moment passed, and Erik surged forward, severing the ropes that held up the chandelier and sending it crashing into the audience below.

Christine jumped back, her hands flying to cover her mouth as the audience's screams and the crash of glass and metal against the floor reached her ears. She stared down at the wreckage before her gaze trailed upwards. Erik flinched as her eyes reached him, instinctively stepping back into the darkness, but something stopped him.

He stepped forward, fully out of the shadows. His cloak fell around him, the fine embroidered details around the collar and shoulders glistening in what light there still was. He locked his eyes on hers, watching as she stared a moment longer before turning and hurrying off the stage.

He watched the spot where she had been standing as chaos ensued far below where he stood. He only move when he heard heavy footsteps hurrying clumsily in his direction. He pushed open a decorative panel near where the chandelier had hung and slipped into the darkness. The panel shut on its own behind him, giving no hint to his pursuers as to where he had gone.

Long before they discovered they were chasing naught but shadows, Erik was crossing the lake to his home, lamenting what he had seen on the rooftop as the cogs in his brain turned on a new plan.

A plan to get rid of the pesky vicomte.


	2. Let Me Get Some Sleep

For six long months Erik toiled over his organ as he worked to finish his opera, _Don Juan Triumphant._ On a few occasions he did meander through the opera house, observing rehearsals and watching as everyone slowly returned to their day to day lives after the chandelier fell.

He even dared to check on Christine. Through her dressing room mirror, Erik caught a glimpse of her life. The vicomte sent flowers for her nearly _daily_. Erik wondered what could possibly make the man feel so inadequate that he would need to reassure her of his love for her so often, but then it struck him.

It was a show. Christine had, no doubt, told the vicomte of his passageway behind her mirror. They knew he would be watching- they were _counting on it_. He couldn't trust a single thing he saw through the mirror in her dressing room.

Such effort applied to angering the opera ghost… If they only knew how angry the truth made him. This public show was, at best, a mild amusement. The fact that they were attempting to dupe him made his eyes flash with rage that was ever building behind his seemingly calm exterior.

The mask he wore to hide his disfigured visage served to disguise further ugliness now. Ugliness his mother had seen but he had refused to acknowledge. Surely one's soul couldn't be as horrible as a face not even a mother could love?

Erik's anger reached a deeper point within him as he watched Christine enter her dressing room, two days before the annual December masquerade. He watched her from just beyond where she could see through the mirror. He watched as she brushed her hair and he closed his eyes as she changed from a rather extravagant costume back into a simple dress, temporarily baring parts of herself that were not his to view.

As she turned to leave the room, she paused and in an exaggerated motion she bent down and sniffed one of the larger, more vibrant flowers from her suitor. Erik felt something deep within him snap, and as Christine opened her dressing room door, he bellowed, "_You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!_"

Christine froze, one foot out the door. Slowly, she turned her head until the mirror was just barely in her peripheral vision. She stared this way for a moment, as though she expected him to come out and steal her away again, but no such thing happened, as once the words had torn themselves from Erik's throat he had turned and fled.

Raoul came to collect her shortly after and she decided it would be best to act as though nothing had happened. Back in his home, Erik was seething as he put the final touches on his costume for the masquerade. He would have all eyes on him.


End file.
